


The Force demands balance, so it sent me

by Outcasts_Anonymous



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead is Bad at Feelings, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead is So Done, Alternate Universe - Fusion, But also not, Dead Midoriya Izuku, F/M, Literal Alternate Universes, M/M, Midoriya Izuku Does Not Have One for All Quirk, Midoriya Izuku is a Jedi, Midoriya Izuku is a Little Shit, Midoriya Izuku is a Problem Child, Quirkless Midoriya Izuku, THIS IS GONNA GET ANGSTY, The Force, The OCs don't matter that much, The only one that might stick around is, Tired Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Tired Tsukauchi Naomasa, Tsukauchi Naomasa is So Done, Tsukauchi Naomasa is a Good Friend, Vigilante Midoriya Izuku, Well - Freeform, it'll be explained later, oh yeah i almost forgot, or I guess just a force user, you'll find out, yup
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:00:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24525793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Outcasts_Anonymous/pseuds/Outcasts_Anonymous
Summary: "Take the greatest Hero, strip away their Quirk, and what remains? They rely on it, depend on it, more than they know. Watch as one tries to fight a villain, as an officer would take down a criminal, and you will see nothing more than a woman – or a man. A child."- Kreia (paraphrased)
Relationships: Midoriya Izuku/Uraraka Ochako
Comments: 17
Kudos: 85





	1. Chapter One

Pushing open the precinct doors; steaming hot coffee clutched tight in his right hand, whilst his left was busy running through his messy rats-nest of hair; untangling it to the best of his sleep-deprived ability, Aizawa was greeted by the assaulting sight and smell of hundreds of frenzied officers as they dashed between desks; folders clutched tight in their hands with the occasional file falling to the floor. There were phones ringing all around, though very few were picked up in the commotion, and the heroes that had been called in before him were engaged in rather heated arguments of their own with the more senior officers.

With a groan, Aizawa pushed through them all; almost tripping on his own shoelace as he made his way over to what must have been the only senior officer _not_ currently engaged in a screaming match with another hero. From what few details he had gotten out of Tsukauchi over the phone, the guy he was here to help interrogate was something special, but other than that Aizawa didn't even know if the guy was a murder or a petty thief.

Noticing him approach, the senior officer turned to him with an exhausted look on his face that could almost rival his own- and anyone that was watching could see the relief flood the officer's system when he realised _which_ hero was approaching him. Fixing his capture scarf to sit comfortably over his pyjama top, Aizawa took a swig of coffee.

"Oh thank God you're here Eraser! The chief isn't letting any of us go home until this guy is dealt with, and you're the last person we need for our tests to be complete! Uh... How much have you already been briefed on the situation? The other heroes that were called in apparently didn't get much information..?"

Letting out a dry 'ahh' as the coffee warmed his sore-throat, Aizawa took catalogue of the other heroes in the room. He'd seen them as he'd entered, yes, but he hadn't actually _recognised_ any of them on first glance, which for him was... _strange,_ to say the least. Hell, the most recognisable one of the five was the number forty-seven pro-hero Amnesiac, and even in half of his costume, it had took a few seconds of staring almost directly at him for any sort of recognition to kick in.

Maybe going so long without sleep _was_ finally getting to him like Yamada had always said it would. If it was, Aizawa certainly wasn't going to acknowledge it; the last thing he wanted to deal with was a hyperactive, screaming blond hoped up on the knowledge that he was _right_ for once in his life.

Two of the other heroes were underground ones, if his memory served him right. One of them he'd worked with before; Rakghoul. The man had a quirk that allowed him to dive into other people's minds and mess with them, and the other hero; a woman, had a quirk that allowed her to physically manifest anything she or her target was thinking of. As for her name, Aizawa hadn't the slightest idea.

The last two heroes were from GDU; the Global Defence Unit, according to the patches sewn onto their jackets. They were the only two on site in full uniform, which, he supposed made sense. Where heroes were held to ridiculous standards, underground heroes a little less so, those working for the GDU had to practically be 'perfect' in every aspect of their lives. It sounded exhausting, but that wasn't the point.

If the GDU were here then maybe Aizawa should be taking this whole thing a little more seriously. After all, if this criminal was dangerous enough to catch the attention of the GDU, then whatever he'd done had to have posed a threat to the entire _world_ \- and as ridiculous as that thought sounded, it was an extremely _sobering_ thought none-the-less.

"Honestly? All I know is that this guy is important, but... considering that _they're_ here-" Aizawa speculated, nodding his head in the direction of the two GDU agents. "Then I have a feeling that that might've been the biggest understatement of the century." With a sound of grave acknowledgement, the officer nodded his head, before turning slightly and gesturing for Aizawa to follow him as he pushed through the set of double doors he had been stood in front of.

Doing as asked, Aizawa followed; the sound of chaos that had been coming from the main part of the office dampening extensively as the doors swung closed behind him, though much to his dismay, it didn't quite block the noise fully.

"I want to get this out of the way now, but the guy we want you to help interrogate isn't being considered a threat to the world because of what he can _do_ , but because of what he _represents_. You see, over fifteen hours ago we brought this man into custody on the charge of committing vigilantism. He strode out into the middle of a villain attack with this yellow laser sword and took down both the heroes _and_ the villains, however when the police came to arrest him he acted confused, like he didn't understand what was happening, and much to the irritation of the responding officers, it seemed he didn't speak a lick of Japanese," The officer explained, sounding rather monotonous. This must have been his sixth, at the least, time explaining this, so Aizawa didn't blame him. If he were in the officer's place, he'd be tired too. Well, he _was_ tired, but... you get the point.

"So what does the guy represent then? What meta-physical concept did they think was so dangerous that the GDU pulled their heads out of their asses long enough to dispatch agents?"

"I was getting to that," The officer grumbled, shooting Aizawa a wry look from over his shoulder.

"But, since you asked, if he passes the test we have planned for him; you, then we will have just proven the existence of alternate dimensions..." His eyes blowing wide, Aizawa couldn't help but choke on his coffee; having taken a drink in response to the officer's look, before stumbling to rest against the corridor wall; pounding on his chest. Between choked coughs, the hero managed to spit out a a shocked-

" _ **W**_ ** _hat‽_** _"_

The officer, having stopped walking when he heard the hero's distress, turned to face him and sighed; shaking his head before bringing a hand up to sweep his greasy hair back out of the way. Ordinarily, his cap would have been serving as a way to keep his hair in place, but he had long ago taken it off during his paperwork marathon, and then with the arrival of the first few heroes, he just hadn't bothered to put it back on. Part of him wanted to just quickly run back and grab it, but he knew that now wasn't the time.

"Yeah, that's why I was planning on leading you to that conclusion yourself, that way it wouldn't have been that big of a shock. Anyway, like I was saying, we brought the dude into custody and even though he had no idea what was going on, he was very co-operative. Since he didn't speak Japanese, we requested the aid of a local languages teacher from Danboru middle school; she has a quirk that acts as a universal translator, but it's a little more complicated than that." With his coughing fit over and done with, Aizawa stopped leaning against the wall; rubbing at his throat as he rasped his next question.

"What happened then?" Walking to stand next to the officer, said officer gave the hero a once over to make sure he wasn't going to fall, before the two set off down the corridors again.

"Well, put simply, her quirk just... didn't work. The language the man was speaking didn't register as an _actual_ language according to her quirk, which, according to _her_ , shouldn't be possible. Now, whilst it isn't uncommon for people to find out that their quirks don't work the way they think they do, that wasn't what was happening in this case- but that's besides the point. The point is that we still couldn't understand him, which is why we brought in Rakghoul. We had him use his quirk to sift through the guy's memories to look for his language comprehension, and then had him copy it down onto paper for the teacher to use as a guide to integrate the language into her quirk." As the two arrived at another set of double doors, the officer pulled ahead of Aizawa to swipe his key-card against the RFID scanner. With a soft beep, the doors unlocked, and the officer held both open for the hero to walk through.

Aizawa gave a polite nod as he entered, and as the officer followed behind him and the doors swung closed, those already in the room were quick to turn their attention to the two. The room itself was far more grand than Aizawa had been expecting; having never been in this particular part of the precinct before. It was their 'comfortable questioning room', as the officers referred to it; a place they could take people that they wanted answers from, that hadn't been taken into custody in a _completely_ legal way. Aizawa had heard of it a few times during his years as a hero, but had never found a use for it.

By dressing the room up as an over-glorified waiting room, and by making it so that the person being held wasn't restricted from leaving, but rather persuaded to stay through things such as the over-sized tv hooked into the one of the far walls; games consoles; a pool table, the officers could get the information out of the person without it being considered kidnapping or malpractice.

"Ah, Aizawa, I'm glad you could finally join us!" Tsukauchi greeted, standing from the couch he and officer Sansa had been resting on. Glancing quickly at the officer to his side, Aizawa moved further into the room to meet the detective half-way.

"Tsukauchi, it is two in the morning; I wouldn't sound so excited about that if I were you. If I hadn't learned less than a few minutes ago that me being here could be the deciding factor on alternate universes existing, I would have punched you. In fact, if we learn that they _don't_ exist, I'm _still_ going to punch you." Choosing to completely gloss over Aizawa's attitude, Tsukauchi began to guide the the two of them back over to where he had been sat.

The couch they'd been on was pressed flush against the wall, and in front of it a table, and around the _table_ were three more couches; each with another two officers; some that the hero recognised, others that he didn't. Dotted around the room there were obviously other places to sit, and people sitting in them; other heroes; some people in lab-coats which were _probably_ scientists, and in the very centre of the room was the person they were all here because of.

Aizawa couldn't help but stare.

They looked to be around eighteen in age, though Aizawa would be lying if he said the boy didn't give off the feeling of being much older. They were also floating, which didn't do much other than put the hero on edge. It would seem as if, despite being at the centre of not just the room but everything going on right now, everyone else in the room was going out of their way to _avoid_ him. Even Tsukauchi, when crossing the room to meet him, and when taking him and the other officer back to where he was sat, had chosen to walk a path that took him out of the way of the boy.

They looked Japanese, which added a point to the 'I'm punching Tsukauchi' tally, and the 'floating in a meditative pose' gimmick he was doing would be achievable with any basic telekinetic quirk, which just added _another_ point to the tally- however, he was willing to withhold both his doubts and his fists for the sole reason that he was the _last test_. If the boy had passed all the other tests, then there must be some credibility to the theory.

His hair was green, and Aizawa couldn't tell if it was the product of hair-dye or not, but the biggest indicator that _maybe_ something was a little fucky with the man was his clothing. They were robes, and they looked both oriental and worn; their original colour looked to have been a creamy white, though through dirt they had started to fade to more of a grey. He also had on a dark brown belt of sorts, and on the side of the belt was a clip that, if he had to guess, would have held his laser sword.

"So anyway, Aizawa, now that you've been briefed on the situation, are you up for it?" Tsukauchi asked, as they finally arrived at the seating area. Upon their arrival the other officers gave quick greetings, and not wanting to take one of their seats, Aizawa merely sat on the armrest of the couch opposite Tsukauchi. The officer that had accompanied him was quick to step in; raising his hand slightly in Tsukauchi's direction.

"Actually, detective, I hadn't finished briefing him yet- we'd just gotten to the part where Rakghoul had written down the boy's language for Honyaku-Sensei!" The detective startled for a moment, looking over to the officer, before giving the man an understanding nod.

"Alright then, officer Torunitaranai, you're dismissed for now; go find a place to rest, I think you've earned it; I'll finish the brief off for you," With a slight bow to the detective, the officer was quick to saunter off; dragging a hand down his face in an effort to disguise the fact that he was yawning.

Looking back to Aizawa, Tsukauchi rest his elbows on his knees, and his lower face in his hands; letting his eyes drift closed for a moment to indulge in the euphoric feeling that such a simple action brought him. Respectfully, Aizawa didn't comment; merely choosing to look around the room again as he waited; attempting for a second time to remove the tangles from his hair. After a few minutes, Tsukauchi finally looked back up, and Aizawa brought his attention back to the man. Though he wouldn't admit it, the hero was rather interested in hearing the rest of the story.

"Sorry, but... anyway, Torunitaranai said you got to the 'writing down language' part, right? Well, basically what happened after that was, as you can probably guess, Honyaku-Sensei integrated it into her quirk, and from there we finally had a way to communicate with him. I don't know if you were told how her quirk works, but basically after hearing a language being spoken once, or in this case, understanding how to read and speak it, that language becomes translated into the native tongue of anyone around her in a set area, and it also works in the opposite way. After a while of talking with him, we learned a lot of rather... _disturbing_ information, that all pinged as true under my own quirk, which is why this whole thing started." Tsukauchi affirmed, twisting to dig into his coat pocket, and then pulling out with quite some effort a hefty collection of folded note paper.

"Like?" Reaching over to take them Aizawa's back cracked, and even all the glaring in the world couldn't stop Tsukauchi and a few of the other officers from chuckling at the hero's expense. Snatching the papers from the detective, Aizawa unfurled the top few to glance over whilst he grumbled incoherently.

"Well, off the top of my head, he's a war criminal; he's a child soldier; he was given to a cult of space wizard warrior monks when he was still a baby, and where _he_ comes from Earth doesn't exist." Raising an eyebrow; a disbelieving look on his face, Aizawa glanced back up at the detective from his notes.

"Oh, and we also learned his name which... honestly, that was probably the most disturbing thing to come out of this so far..."

"Why, what is it? _God?"_ Rolling his eyes Tsukauchi gestured back to the notes in the hero's hand.

"It's Midoriya Izuku; check page five." Doing as instructed, Aizawa folded back shut the notes he'd been looking through and pulled the fifth most note from the collection. The name 'Midoriya Izuku' was clearly Japanese, which only served to add one more point to the 'punch Tsukauchi' tally, but again, he was nothing if not fair.

Unfolding the page revealed it to be a collection of important notes copied over from several different government documents about one 'Midoriya Izuku', an ex-resident of Musutafu who, according to the notes, was... deceased.

_What..?_

"Midoriya Izuku, born on the fifteenth of the seventh; thirty-five, died on the thirtieth of the second; forty-four, aged nine. His death was ruled as an accident by the courts, and nothing ever happened to the kids that caused it. His mother was a woman by the name of Midoriya Inko, and his father was a man named Hizashi, no last name on record... He was registered as quirkless, but his mother _did_ have a telekinesis quirk, which, if I'm being honest, almost made me rule this as someone stuck in a fugue state. If it wasn't for the fact that everything he'd said about his life pinged as true with my quirk, this would have been a pretty open and shut case, since, as you know, even if a person _believes_ what they're saying to be true, if it isn't, then my quirk will register it as false." The detective explained, giving the boy at the centre of the room a sad glance. He had been one of the detectives that _their_ Midoriya's case had been passed to, and though it had been quite a few years since, he still remembered the name.

As a detective, you often see the worst of the world, and eventually you just become desensitised to it all, but child death? Or, anything relating to children really... That stuff... you never forget it; you never become _immune_ to it, no matter how much you might try. In a morbid way, Tsukauchi was just glad he hadn't been required to go over the case that in-depth.

"After I'd collected all the information I could on _our_ Midoriya, I originally wanted to cross-check it with _this_ Midoriya, but I decided to hold off and, as you know, call in a couple other heroes for a few more tests, just to make sure that he hadn't found some way of bypassing my quirk. He passed all those tests, which is why you're here now. Memory probes; being tricked with amnesia; being put in a quirk induced simulation, through all of it he kept the same story; acted as he said he would, and each time he was put into a simulation even the _tiniest_ of details remained the same."

"So you just want me to use my quirk on him?" Aizawa ventured, repositioning himself awkwardly as he turned around on the armrest to face the teen. Before Aizawa could activate his quirk, the hero paused, noticing that the teen's head, though not noticeable unless you were paying attention, was tilted ever so slightly in their direction. The hero felt his eyes widen in surprise, and though it wasn't exactly very professional, he couldn't help but feel a little impressed.

Noticing the hero's hesitation, and subsequent pause, Tsukauchi opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, however found himself cut off as Aizawa finally spoke.

"Well, so much for holding off then Tsukauchi, the guy's been listening to us this whole time," Almost like dominoes, as soon as the officers around him were able to register what Aizawa had said, all of their heads turned towards Midoriya with subdued panic. Though fight it he might, Midoriya allowed an amused smile to spread across his face, and in dismay at the confirmation, Tsukauchi let out a defeated growl.

"Well, I guess that's what we get for allowing Honyaku-Sensei to stay in the room in between tests; I'm not sure why you didn't see this coming..." Sansa mused, turning to Tsukauchi with a smug smile. In retaliation, Tsukauchi didn't even bother looking away from Midoriya as he raised a hand and began to aggressively scratch between the officer's ears, causing the cat-headed man to melt into a puddle of incoherent mumble-purring.

"Well, I'm ready to start this test whenever; seems like _he_ is as well," Aizawa commented, looking away from Midoriya and catching Tsukauchi's gaze.

"Alright... I'll radio in and let them know we're going to start," Standing back up from the couch Tsukauchi quickly took the pile of notes back from Aizawa, who had placed them down on the table between them, and as he put them back in his coat he removed his radio. The other officers around him began to stand as well, finishing off their own individual conversations, and as Aizawa stood, the others in the room began to quiet down; noticing the group all standing.

"Alright, the final test is about to commence; those of you not currently in attendance that wish to be here to view the final result, you have five minutes to get here. As for the rest of you, move into position." Tsukauchi's voice crackled to life all around the room through the radios of ever officer in attendance, and though they had no way of hearing, through the radios of every officer across the precinct.

By now, everyone bar Aizawa knew what they were supposed to do, and so moved into position for what many hoped to be the last time that night; forming a rather wide ring of a perimeter around Midoriya. The teen didn't react, or at least, not in any notable way, merely turning his head back to his centre and allowing his smile to fall into a schooled facade of faux-apathy. 

Feeling rather like a fish out of water, Aizawa stuck close to Tsukauchi as the detective took his place within the perimeter; facing almost directly towards Midoriya. Dotted amongst the officers were the scientists Aizawa had briefly taken notice of earlier; most, unlike the officers who's hands remained close to their guns, held video cameras and some datapads, no doubt buzzing with excitement for the results of this test.

Having moved to stand facing Midoriya, Tsukauchi and Aizawa's backs were to the room's door, though even without turning to face it Aizawa could tell from the self-important thudding footfalls that echoed around the room after said doors had slammed closed that the two GDU officers he'd seen earlier had finally joined them. One of them moved to stand on Tsukauchi's left, and the other had placed herself on Aizawa's right. Neither hero nor detective moved to acknowledge them, though it was clear that the woman to Aizawa's right had something she wanted to say to him.

Every so often she'd turn inwards towards him; her blonde hair, thin, striking gently against his own thicker hair, before she would seemingly freeze, and turn her attention back to Midoriya. If she wanted to say something, then Aizawa wasn't going to baby her; she was a member of the GDU; she could either stop pretending to not be stuck up and spit it out, or she could suffer in silence. Aizawa didn't care.

After a few minutes of relatively nothing happening, the perimeter finally began to settle; those that hadn't finished their conversations finally falling to silence when they realised that nothing was in fact happening. Turning their attention to Tsukauchi, the detective waited until he had captured the attention of as many officers as he was willing to wait for, before clearing his throat.

"Welcome back everyone; I'd say thank you for putting up with the wait, but we all know that just like those locked up below us, we too are being held here against our will at the moment," The crowd gave soft chuckles at the detective's joke, though many found it hit too close to home to really enjoy. "But, thankfully, now that Eraserhead is here, we can begin the final test. Though some of you have worked with him at some point, for those that haven't and for those who haven't been paying attention, his quirk is, as his hero name implies, 'Erasure'; the ability to turn off other people's quirks."

The sounds of cameras going off and recordings being started filled the air, along side the scribbling of pencils against paper. Tucking his head down at all of the attention, though trying not to let it show, Aizawa felt his earlier tiredness beginning to return and the gaze of the female agent to his side was really starting to become annoying like what the fuck do you want you _arrogant-_

"Now, Midoriya here has passed every test given to him so far, and this will be the ultimate decider on whether or not he is in fact an interdimensional traveller. You see, this levitation trick he is doing now he claims is not achieved through the use of a quirk, but rather, though a metaphysical, spiritual, binding, and ubiquitous power known as the 'Force', though due to what he claims to be the complexity of the topic, he has gone on record to state that at this time he is not willing to go into detail on what the Force is. The final test is simple. Should Midoriya still be able to use this Force whilst Eraserhead is using his quirk on him, then we will have our answer, and, as I'm sure many of you are waiting for, a lot of you will finally be able to go home for the night."

As Tsukauchi continued on listing off important details, Aizawa began to tune the detective out, and at the same time his focus on Midoriya seemed to increase tenfold. The edges of his vision began to fade to a black in a vignette style, and thankfully, the annoying staring of the agent also began to numb along with everything else. 

Midoriya's eyes snapped open, already in the right position to create eye-contact between the two, and it took everything Aizawa had to not flinch back. His eyes were a vibrant green, and the hero dared call them toxic, though the lack of malice in them made him refrain. No they were not full of malice, or hate, or anger at anything that was going on; instead they were curious; piercing; evaluating. They were judging him, but for what reason the hero couldn't tell. All he could tell, was that there was no negative intent there.

_'They're going to take me'_

This time Aizawa did reel back, though thankfully no one seemed to notice; through the black at the edge of his sight he could see the faces of the other officers and the scientists all still held at attention on Tsukauchi. Flicking his eyes back over to Midoriya, the teen held the faintest of smiles.

_'My apologies Eraser, I would have warned you of what I was about to do but I can't risk drawing attention to either of us. I am currently using the Force to speak directly into your mind. No one else can hear me, and though your lack of force sensitivity stops you from speaking back to me in the same way, your lack of mental defences permits me to read your thoughts'_

Seeing the weary look on Aizawa's face, Midoriya felt his own calm face turn grim, though once again he kept it schooled enough that just Aizawa should have been able to tell. Sadly, it would seem that the male agent had just as sharp of an eye, as said eyes were quick to flick to his face, though only for the briefest of seconds, before returning to scan the crowd.

_'Eraser, please, I need you to listen to me. If I am to make it out of here alive, I need your help. The officer to your side; the woman, though you may think otherwise, she is not annoying you without reason. In her possession is my lightsaber, and she is trying to pass it along to you. The GDU do not plan on letting me live when I pass your test, of this I am certain. I have had the time to explore the two agent's minds, as just like you, they have no mental defences, and they are on orders to terminate the threat; me, should I prove to be what I am'_

Taking a page out of Midoriya's book, Aizawa schooled his expression into the careful neutral mask he so often used during his active hero work. Though he had no doubt that the woman was still trying to get his attention, she had yet to become 'un-numb', to him. As for the claims that Midoriya was making, whilst Aizawa was inclined to call bullshit, he honestly wouldn't have put it passed the GDU to have issued such an order. He supposed that he'd listen to the teen anyway, just in case he really did pass the final test.

After all, what kind of a hero would he be if he allowed an innocent person come to harm, just because he didn't listen to what they had to say.

Through the Force, Midoriya felt Aizawa purposefully think of asking him to continue his explanation, and had he not been under such scrutiny, Midoriya might have let go a sigh of relief. Contacting anyone in this room would have been a risk, and had Aizawa; the man who emanated the aura of most fairness, not believed him, then his fate would have surely been sealed.

_'The male agent, Oyama Yori, not only does he have no qualms with his orders, but he is looking forward carrying them out. His quirk, which I am coming to learn is this dimension's name for a superpower, is called 'absolute will'. Similar to a Force power known as 'Dominate Mind', it allows him to impose his own will over others, and should their will be weak enough, essentially turn those around him into his own personal puppets. The female agent, Yoshinaga Makoto, is more conflicted. Unless true sanctuary should be offered, she will not willingly and openly go against her orders, however she will aide us in our escape none the less, though in more covert ways'_

Once again, Midoriya reached out through the Force to gauge the hero's reaction; resisting the urge to furrow his brow as he did so.

Aizawa was strange, or rather, _everyone_ here was strange. He had only ever read of an effect like it in the forbidden texts he had taken from the archive, but those around him felt almost exactly as wounds in the Force were described to. Each and every one of them, be they an officer of the law, a scientist, or a 'hero', were so very cut off from the Force that it was almost as if they had never even been touched by it in the first place- which, from all he had gathered since arriving, might very well be the case.

Though, unlike _true_ wounds in the Force, they had essentially the opposite effect on Midoriya. Where a wound in the Force would become unpredictable; where a wound in the Force would deafen those around around it, Midoriya had never before felt such clarity in the Force.

Aizawa sent back a feeling of unease, though there was no specific thought Midoriya was able to pick up on this time.

_'I assume your unease comes from my want to escape, however I counter those worries with the fact that should I not escape, I will die. You, Eraser, are my best bet at survival. As a hero, and the most logical one in the room at that, I am asking you to please extend your privileges as a hero to find me sanctuary once I pass this test. Take my lightsaber from the woman, and when Oyama tries to take me in and I run, follow me as if you were trying to capture me and pass it off to me. Preferably, Yoshinaga would come with us, but if you do not in fact know somewhere for me to claim sanctuary, then I do not wish to risk her in such a way. So, Eraser, I ask, do you know somewhere in which we could take sanctuary? If so, think of its name; or an image; something that would allow me to find the place on my own should the plan go awry'_

Midoriya's words caused a war within the hero the likes of which he hadn't experienced since the start of his career; logic vs emotion; what he has been trained to do, vs what he believed he should do. Naturally, Aizawa's logical side told him to not think of anything; to clear his mind to not give away anything that could help the teen- after all, he hadn't even passed the test yet. On the other hand however, the amount of conviction with which Midoriya was speaking lead him to believe that he was telling the truth, and the hero in him wouldn't be able to live with itself if his resistance to release the information Midoriya needed resulted in him being killed.

Taking in a deep breath and squeezing his eyes closed as tight as he could, Aizawa relented; praying to whatever God might be out there that he wasn't about to make a huge mistake, and allowed his mind to be filled with thoughts of the one place he knew would keep the teen safe; the one place that, should the GDU come knocking on their door to take the teen, would fight back and win. UA University; the number one hero school in the county, and the second best world wide.

He allowed his mind to be filled with flashes of his students both new and old; of the staff that taught there and their strengths; of the principal, Nezu, and his intelligence and drive to both protect, nurture, and discover. He allowed his mind to drift to the university's defences, though, not their workings. And lastly, he allowed his mind to drift through the streets that Midoriya would have to take for him to get there from the precinct.

Midoriya smiled; unabashed, as the information funnelled through his mind. UA University, in a way, reminded him of the Jedi academy on Coruscant, though, less stuck up.

_'Thank you, Eraser; I promise that you will not regret this, though I'm afraid the time for planning is almost up. The perception filter I have placed upon us with the Force can only mask us as long as we are not the centre of attention, and the detective is about to announce the start of the test. I am going to quickly bring Yoshinaga into the filter with us and broadcast the bare-bones of our plan into her mind, the best I can do without direct contact. Once she is in, make haste to take my lightsaber from her, and once it is within your possession I will drop the filter'_

Giving Midoriya the slightest of slight nods, Aizawa was both relieved and annoyed as the darkness at the edges of his vision began to recede, and the woman; Yoshinaga, could once again be felt. She was practically stabbing his arm with her nails at this point trying to get his attention, and as he turned to finally give it her, she flinched; her grip on him coming instantly loose and her eyes blowing wide. Her vision too had gained a vignette, however before she had even a chance to process that, he mind was assaulted by an overload of information.

For her what lasted minutes, for Aizawa and Midoriya didn't even last a second, and just as before where the woman turned inwards to Aizawa, this time, their eyes met; crystal blue and dark black, and it was clear that they were finally on the same page. Her movements quick and precise, just as the hero would have expected of an agent, she snaked an arm inside of her navy aviator jacked, and pulled from a hidden pocket Midoriya's lightsaber.

It looked old and worn, just as his robes, and the lower part hilt was wrapped with a dark brown leather. Had he the time, Aizawa would have liked to inspect the weapon further, but understanding the urgency of the situation, he was quick to stash it within his capture weapon. Were he in his full uniform, he would have placed it along side his jelly pouches, however sadly his pyjamas did not contain such a pocket.

Yamada had been _very_ insistent on that.

_'Good work, Eraser; one last thing; remember, when I 'escape', I'll be leaving the range of your universal translator, so I'll be relying on you to help me speak with this 'Nezu', creature'_

Before Aizawa even had the chance to think of his reply, the remaining vignette that darkened the edges of his vision dissipated, and the ambient sounds of the room crashed back into him like a wave. As discreet as he could, Aizawa shook his head and blinked a few times to clear the weird feeling from his eyes, before glancing around the perimeter to reorient himself. More specifically, the hero made sure to look over at Oyama. The agent paid him no mind; being busy glaring intensely at Midoriya, who had closed his eyes once again.

"So, with all of the necessary information documented, we can finally begin. Aizawa?" His head and focus quickly snapping over to Tsukauchi, the detective was already looking back at him with a masked concern. With a glance at Yoshinaga, and then the rest of the officers and scientists in the room, the hero found himself the new centre of attention. 

"Alright, here goes nothing..." Struggling to keep his voice his usual monotone, Aizawa for what must have been the hundredth time turned back to Midoriya. Bringing his right hand up to his capture weapon in a well practised motion, Aizawa made use of his idiosyncrasy to hold on to Midoriya's lightsaber; making sure it wouldn't float into view when the time came. Taking in a breath, Midoriya re-opened his eyes to stare at the hero- and when the tension in the room couldn't feel anymore suffocating, Aizawa flashed his quirk at the teen. 

His black eyes bled over into red, and the second; more by-product like effect of his quirk activating kicked in. The tail-ends of his capture scarf, along with his hair, began to float into the air; and it was with bated breaths and stunned silence that those in the room watched on as Midoriya continued to float. Aizawa felt his heart-rate quicken as what little doubt left in his mind that _maybe_ Midoriya was bullshitting him was torn to shreds.

The stunned silence was broken only after a few minutes, with the sound of a camera going off, and Aizawa turning off his quirk, but once the social dam was breached, the room was quick to descend into chaos. The yells of officers having their minds blown; scientists scrambling to record their findings; heroes rushing off to call their agencies; all of it amounted to an amalgam of noise that had Aizawa cringing. 

The hero was quick to share a look with the detective, who stared back with unease, before turning away to walk out of the room; pulling his phone from his pocket to make a call to god knows where. Watching as Tsukauchi left, Aizawa only looked away once he was out of sight; turning his attention to the agent on his right. Opening his mouth to speak, both Aizawa and Yoshinaga were startled as Oyama began to bark harsh commands at Midoriya; finally broken out of his own stupor.

Though busy dealing with the aftermath of the revelation that _'hey, guess what, alternate universes exist holy fuck-'_ , many of the officers and heroes were still quick to turn at the outburst; their hands reaching both down and up respectively to rest on their guns and prepare their quirks; the stress of staying awake for so long lessening what it took to kick in their fight or flight reflexes. Though, upon actually registering what was happening, allowed their hands to drift both back up and down; unsure.

"Okay, that settles it! Midoirya Izuku, on orders of the Global Defence Unit, you are hereby placed into detainment; any attempt to resit will result in your ass being kicked! I recommend that you come quietly!" No one watching dared speak, most worried that if they did get in the way of the GDU then _they'd_ be the ones suffering the agent's wrath, since none, not even the heroes, really had the authority to challenge the orders of the GDU.

It didn't change the fact that those orders were obviously unfair though. It sounded far more like the guy was trying to arrest the teen than take him in for... whatever it was they were going to do, which, circumstances considered didn't really seem right; after all Midoriya hadn't actually done anything wrong, per say. The most he could be held accountable for was the act of vigilantism that had him brought in in the first place, which, _technically speaking_ wasn't vigilantism now that they had the full story.

Midoriya's eyes calmly swept over Aizawa and Yoshinaga before finally landing on the aggressive form of Oyama. Though he wasn't exactly the biggest fan of the agent, given that, well, the man was going to kill him, Midoriya couldn't help but be impressed by the man's strength. Where Yoshinaga was a rather lithe woman, definitely build for speed and stamina over raw power, Oyama was practically the opposite. He was built like a mandalorian, and the harsh, focused glare he was giving Midoriya told the Jedi that he wasn't just some mindless brute.

Like Yoshinaga, he too wore the navy coloured aviator jacket; the GDU's patch sewn onto its arm, however where Yoshinaga's trousers were a matching blue, Oyama's combat trousers were black. His hair was also black, though obviously dyed considering the greying roots of his crew cut. He carried no obvious weapons, but given his quirk, Midoriya supposed that the man never really _needed_ to carry one.

After all, why stab or shoot someone when you could force them to do it to themselves.

Midoriya floated even higher on the spot; uncurling his legs and allowing them to gently brush against the floor, before he finally cut of his levitation entirely. The two maintained eye-contact for a while, before Midoriya flicked his eyes over to Aizawa. The hero was watching on, tense, and no doubt already prepared to follow along with Midoriya's plan.

The Jedi wondered momentarily if the man's willingness came from Force's influence, but pushed that though away when he was reminded that the Force, other than through him, didn't actually _hold_ any influence in the universe. A fact that both pleased the Jedi, and worried him- but, with his eyes moving back to Oyama, Midoriya elected to focus on these issues at a later date.

"On what grounds am I being taken? I have done nothing wrong; I do not _plan_ on doing anything wrong, and I have been nothing but cooperative," Drawing on his diplomatic training, something he hadn't had do do in quite some time, Midoriya did his best to tip the scales of public opinion in his favour before his plan went into action. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Aizawa this time turn into Yoshinaga; passing her something he couldn't quite make out, and mumbling words to her that he hadn't the time to decipher.

"On the grounds of being a threat to our world! I'm not going to ask again, come quietly!" With a tired 'tsk', Midoriya rolled his eyes.

"So this is how the law enforcement of this world works? You arrest people before they commit a crime? How sad."

Oyama opened his mouth to snap back, however paused when faced with Midoriya's hand raised in a shushing motion.

"Listen, agent; the Force doesn't just allow me to make things float; it allows me a great many abilities- and though I may not like them, one of them is quite useful. You see, it allows me to read the minds of those around me; especially when they have no mental defences such as yourself. I've seen your orders, agent; I know what you were ordered to do." The tension, just as it had before the big reveal, suddenly filtered back into the room; pushing down on everybody as they realised that Midoriya wasn't planning on being cooperative anymore.

"Oh yea? Is that so? So, I take it that you're not planning on coming quietly? _Please_ tell me you're not; I'd _love_ to let loose a little!" Oyama chuckled; his voice, already gruff, descending into what was practically a growl as he rolled his shoulders and cracked his knuckles.

"Considering that the alternative choice would result in my death anyway, then yes..." Midoriya shrugged, revelling in the concern and confusion spreading throughout the room. Before anyone even had the time to blink, Oyama was already charging forwards with his right arm drawn back to strike at Midoriya's face. Those watching looked on in shock, however only found themselves _more_ confused as the agent seemingly paused mere inches from the Jedi

None were more confused, however, than the agent himself. Oyama tried to struggle; tried to thrash his arm to and fro; tried even to pull back to re-attempt his strike, but his arm would not budge. Nor would it ever, if Midoriya willed it so. As a sad smile graced the lips of the Jedi, Oyama gave up his struggle and looked back into the teen's eyes.

"I- Wha..." The man was at a loss for words; the first strike had only been _cast_ , never even _connecting_ , and it was almost as if the 'fight' was already over. Of course, it wasn't; the man had so much left he could do; he could call upon his quirk; he could strike with his other fist; he could order the officers to shoot and the heroes to engage... but despite it being contrary to the very core of who he was, he found himself doubting that any of it would actually _help_.

"It matters not your strength, or your size; your power, _or_ your quirk... in the face of the Force, they all mean nothing. _That_ is why the Force is both a curse, _and_ a blessing..." Shaking his head in pure bewilderment, the agent returned to trying to yank his arm back from its extended position; his fire re-lit. Though, he wasn't allowed much time to try before he felt the cold, trickling feeling of an invisible force running up his arm until it was wholly engulfed.

He went to comment, but in the end he never did. He wouldn't _ever_ be able to focus enough to make a comment through all of the pain that had taken over his body. His bone, like one would expect of crushing a tree, exploded within his arm into thousands of tiny splintered fragments; acting like a blender to the muscle and tissue, before breaching the surface of his arm as if it were suddenly a hedgehog. All the while, the man screamed. Not just a groan or a grunt, a sharp intake of breath or an audible wince- but a full blown, blood-curdling scream so loud it reached the heavens, and even without the assistance of a radio, echoed across the whole precinct.

No one spoke once the man's cries died down; all being too shocked to attempt it, even those that were on Midoriya's side.

Oyama stumbled about on weak and unsure feet; his eyes unfocused and his now useless arm hanging limp by his side. Nevertheless, his useful arm remained held in a fighting stance; not willing to admit loss despite being so dead on his feet he couldn't even look at his opponent.

Midoriya decided it would be best to put an end to the obstacle, lest he somehow find a way to interfere with his escape.

Ignorant to the few officers who had pulled themselves back into the present and had drawn their guns, though chosen inaction, Midoriya brought his palms to rest close to, though not touching, each other, and began to channel the Force into what would normally be the most basic of its uses.

With both hands acting to channel the force into pushing against itself, a blue, nearly white, mist began to emit from his hands and, as said hands began to shake from the amount of pressure welling up; the mist becoming substantial and thick enough to almost mask his whole body were it not for its lack of density, Midoriya angled and pushed both hands forwards towards Oyama.

In an instant, a tangible wave of pure, destructive Force power was sent barrelling into the man; pushing him as if he were hit by a bulldozer into, and then _through_ the room's large wooden doors; splintering and cracking them like his bones had, before ramming him into and further cracking the concrete wall of the corridor, where he was held for a solid few seconds, before finally, with no fight left in him, he collapsed to the ground.

When the man did not move, the attention of all those that had watched him sent flying, slowly; carefully, turned back to look at Midoriya. No one knew what they were supposed to do, in that moment. No one knew what the _right_ thing to do, in that moment, _was_. And whilst the officers, and the heroes, and the scientists all tried to put together a plan, Midoriya _ran_. 

With one foot in front of the other the teen hauled ass out of the precinct; ignoring the shouts and yells of the officers and heroes who, despite not knowing what the right thing to do was, knew that they shouldn't let the teen leave until they did. And Aizawa, as he chased Midoriya into the early morning streets; dressed in nothing but his pyjamas and capture scarf; Yoshinaga following close behind, couldn't help but wonder what the hell he had just gotten himself into.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was originally going to be much, much longer, but I decided to split it up because... well, I'm not really sure why; I'm kinda tired, so maybe it's that. Anyway, enjoy..?

"NO!" Bolting upright in bed, Midoriya screamed his throat raw as the few remaining vestiges of his dream finally began to clear from his mind; his voice, deep from having just woken, bounced around his spartan sandstone room and, through his broken hopper window, out into the early morning streets of Anchorhead. His breathing was ragged, and his eyes unfocused, and through what before him must have been the relative quiet of the new day, he could hear the hurried footfalls of someone rushing towards his door.

His throat tensed painfully as said door slid open; making the taste of blood coating his throat that he knew _wasn't really there_ that much more prominent- and as the possible-intruder let out a sigh upon seeing the state in which Midoriya was in, they shook their head and fully entered the room; allowing the door to slide closed behind them with the all too familiar hiss Midoriya had gotten accustomed to over the years.

He knew, logically, that he should turn to confront the person who had entered his room; that he should pull his lightsaber to him to defend himself, from its place inside of his toothbrush holder on the opposite wall- but logic was not something he was capable of in that moment. Not when he could still hear whispers of her cries of pain at the very edges of his mind; not when each time his body forced him to blink he could still see the image of her in his arms; her hand pressed hard to the slash across her stomach. And so he continued to stare at the dusty wall that the bottom of his bed was pressed against; his eyes painfully wide and his mouth contorted into an anguished snarl.

The possible-intruder didn't speak as he walked further into Midoriya's room; stopping as he arrived at his bedside, before crouching to pull the tattered cloth he called a blanket from the floor, it having fallen at some point during his outburst. As he crouched to grab it, out of the corner of his eye Midoriya could see the familiar muted colours of a bartender's uniform, and the sagged fatty skin of the only Crolute on this side of Tatooine; a fact that served to both relieve Midoriya, and stress him out further.

The fact that it was Clinko that had entered his room meant that he wouldn't have to fight anyone in his current state; not that he though he could of course, being half-asleep and on the verge of a panic attack as he was, but it also meant that his screaming had been _so loud_ that the man had been able to hear it over the sound of an _entire cantina_.

And given his reputation of being as deaf as a doorknob, that would mean _everyone else_ inside the cantina must have heard him as well.

Clinko placed the screwed up blanket on the end of the bed, and after glancing at Midoriya's expressive though vacant face, sighed again before taking a seat next to the blanket; his legs brushing the bottom of Midoriya's feet. Due to his weight, the bed was quick to bend around him; the springs groaning in protest, but Clinko didn't care. The two sat in relative silence for a few moments; Clinko looking down at the floor; his arms resting loosely over his legs, whilst Midoriya stared directly at his head; still too busy trying not to _break_ to look away. Other than the occasional noise coming from the outside world, the only sound that broke the silence was their breathing.

Midoriya's breathing had calmed considerably; at the very least he was no longer hyperventilating, though Clinko's own was as heavy as it always was. It was the type of heavy that came not with panic, but with age; with exhaustion. He was getting on in his years, and was already considered old by his species' standards, but thanks to living on a planet that had an ecosystem the direct opposite of his home planet, he'd spent most of his life hulking around the extra weight of his own skin. The skin of a Crolute was buoyant and gelatinous, after all; it was designed to float about in a weightless environment- so you could expect that living on a desert planet that had to quite literally farm for moisture hadn't treat him kindly.

"Midoriya, y'not alright," He finally muttered, twisting his head up at an angle to stare at him. Since he was muttering, his voice was far smoother than usual, however when you take into account that the man normally sounded like he had come out the womb smoking deathsticks, it wasn't really much of an improvement. Midoriya didn't respond, just as Clinko had expected, but there was a slight twitch to his eye that indicated he had heard him. "And that's okay. But holing yourself up in 'ere ain't gonna help y'get better." Once again not receiving any form of response, Clinko brought his head back down to look at the floor; letting out a tired sigh.

"I know she meant a lot to you; we _all_ know, and we all miss 'er too. We might not know much about Jedi stuff, but I can tell what you had was special... _unique_. But... d'ya really think that this is what the lil'Guardian would'a wanted? For ya' to hide away from the world and drown yourself in pity and self-loathing, while those Czerka bastards get off scot-free? While the S.O.B Sith Lord that did this to her is still _out there_?" Once again twisting his head to look up at Midoriya, Clinko would have jerked back in surprise when their eyes met, were it not for the fact that his age didn't allow for that kind energy.

His face still looked rather vacant, as if he wasn't quite all there, but his eyes were now focused, and his snarl was gone. That was a start, he supposed.

"Consular..." Midoriya muttered, and Clinko could only furrow his large brows in confusion.

"She wasn't a Guardian, she was a Consular, and... No, she... she wouldn't. And... And he isn't a _Sith Lord_ , he's a Dark Jedi... He _used to be_ my _friend_!" With a hum of acknowledgement, Clinko slowly nodded his head; having nothing left to say. Personally, he didn't care much for all of the different terminology; no one did really, other than those that they applied to, but if right now using the right words made Midoriya feel better, then he didn't see much of a reason to _not_ to.

"You got a call by the way; a few hours ago, from that council a'yours. Told 'em you'd call 'em back when you were up to it." That got Midoriya to react, though it was still rather minorly; his eyes widening and his breath catching for the briefest of moments. With a slow nod of his head, he finally gave a sigh of his own, and swung his legs over the side of the bed in a manner matching his friend's.

"I better go answer them; they wouldn't accept my reasoning for _not_ answering them. They knew that we were close, but the Jedi forbid attachment of any kind; if I let on even the slightest that her... her _death_... was interfering with my work, then they'd pull me back to that damn temple and I think... I think if they did that, then that would be it for me, y'know?" With him speaking the most he had in nearly a month, Clinko could only really think of one thing he wanted to ask Midoriya- though, part of him almost felt he shouldn't say anything; that right now Midoriya just needed someone to listen to him.

In the end, his curiosity got the best of him, and he decided to ask Midoriya the question that had been on his mind for the longest time now. After all, he could still listen to everything Midoriya had to say afterwards; no one said it had to be either or.

"Kid... For the longest time I've known 'ya, you've always spoke about how the Jedi and the Sith are wrong; about how neither understand the Force- and from the few times I heard the two of 'ya together, you always spoke to that lady of yours about how neither side could truly 'take back power from the Force'. If I'm being honest, when I first heard 'ya I thought it was just a bunch'a self-righteous bullshit; I thought _you thought_ you were better than everyone else, like every other one a'them glow-stick wielding bantha-kriffers... But then I saw the way you interacted with everyone; the way you gave yourself to the community; the way you were never afraid to do the dirty work yourself when no one else would. And I realised that you weren't like the other Jedi, and the more I listened to 'ya, the more I saw how much you believed in what you were sayin'," With his eyes full of mirth, Midoriya turned to look at Clinko as the bartender gave him the closest thing to a compliment he had ever heard the man give. It made him feel bubbly inside in a way he hadn't felt in quite some time, and, though he still didn't fell good enough to smile, he felt close.

"So, I guess what I'm tryin' t'ask 'ya is... why haven't you just... left the order? I... I don't want t'... y'know, overstep or anything, but... it seems like all your problems could have been avoided if you just... weren't a Jedi? You'd be free to practice and teach your own philosophy... if... if that's the word, I'm... I'm not too sure. And, well, you'd be free to openly have... _attachments_ ," He finished, awkwardly; shifting slightly on the bed to the chorus of screaming springs, as his backside had begun to go numb.

"It's just... it's not that simple, Tanquar... the Jedi have done so much for me; my _Master_ has done so much for me- and for as much as I think that the order and the code are _wrong_ , and for as big of a _hypocrite_ as my Master has become, I owe them so much... Though, I will admit that... this past month I have _considered_ it; walking away from the order..." As Midoriya trailed off, Clinko could see the internal debate he was having on whether or not to say more; the mirth in his eyes being replaced by the distant look he had seen when Midoriya had first awoken, and for a moment he was afraid that he was going to become none-responsive again.

After a few seconds, Midoriya finally made his decision, and as he turned to look away from Clinko, he pushed himself off of his bed; his boots hitting the floor and causing small clouds of sand to poof into the air. Clinko however made no effort to pull himself out of the small enclave he had weighed himself into; far more content to watch Midoriya go about his morning routine. He had to spend the workday on his feet, so he wasn't going to force himself to stand for any longer than he had to.

Without even turning to look behind him, Midoriya used the Force to pull his robe-overlay from its place underneath his bed, and as he approached the sink he was quick to pull it over his head, though this time just using his actual hands. Giving the cold tap a turn, which required quite the bit of excess effort, water eventually came cascading down; the pressure far too high. Running his hands through it for a few seconds, Midoriya then began to wipe it down his face, and then, once he was done with that, he began to wipe it through his hair.

Clinko gave a chuckle, which inevitably turned into a throaty cough, as Midoriya began to shake his hands and hair down as if he were an oversized dog. Once he was done, Midoriya then pulled his lightsaber from its place amongst his toothbrushes, and after turning to look back at his bed, and using the Force to pull his belt to him from where it had been pinned under his pillow, he finally looked back at Clinko with a sigh.

"Right," He began, clapping his hands together as best he could with them full of his belt and saber, "Let's get going." With a nod, Clinko began to groan as he pulled himself up and off of the bed, and as he did so, Midoriya once again turned and approached the door; entering the code required for it to slide open. Sad boi hours were over, and whether or not he was ready, it was time for him to finally get back to work. He waited, of course, for Clinko to leave his room before entering the code to close it, and as the two walked together in silence through the corridors, Midoriya began to fix his appearance; straightening his overlay and trapping it below his belt, before hooking his lightsaber to it.

It was a motion he had done so often he had no doubt he could do it in his sleep, however this time it felt off. He could not describe it, and were he being honest, he wasn't sure he'd like what he said if he could. The word 'noose' flashed through his mind, though with the Force he was quick to push it away.

As the two of them came to a fork in the corridor, both stopped walking. On the left was the way back to the main area of the cantina, and on the right, the holo-room. This was where they were to part ways.

"Just remember to look after yourself, kid..." Clinko mumbled, his voice low. The two shared a look, and after giving him a reassuring nod, Midoriya began to trek down the corridor. If he were to look back, he would have seen Clinko watching him with worry in his eyes- and had he reached out with the Force, he might have even been able to feel it, however Midoriya did neither.

The cantina's corridors were all relatively the same, and by relatively the same, I mean that they were so plain; so _simple_ , that unless you were able to memorise exactly where the doors were supposed to be located in each one, you'd never be able to tell them apart; you could get lost in them and never find your way back out. Even the cleanliness of the corridors was uniform; if one was dirty, they all were dirty; if one got cleaned, they all got cleaned. Clinko had told him once that that was done on purpose, so that those being chased by people with... less than honourable intentions, that were regulars of the cantina, could use them to lose their pursuers- though Midoriya wasn't sure how much he believed that. Part of him felt as though the man just didn't want to bother with decorating.

After her death, Midoriya had wandered into these corridors with his eyes closed in hopes he would be lost forever too, though found that either through his instincts, or through the will of the Force, his feet would always take him to the guest room she would use on the missions that would require her to stay for an extended amount of time. He was hedging his bets that it was the will of the Force; being petty and taking its revenge on him for trying to teach her how to rise above it's will, but for all he knew he was just being self-deprecating. He had refused to ever go blindly into the corridors again after the first few times it had happened. 

Upon reaching the door to the holo-room, Midoriya held up his hand to tentatively press against its control panel; letting his fingers run down the many buttons before pausing at the bottom. He was apprehensive; he was _hesitating_ , and lampshade it as he might, that didn't change the reality of the situation. Clenching his jaw, Midoriya took a deep breath, and with a firm finger jabbed the big red button that opened the door.

Stepping inside, Midoriya was greeted with what was by far the most technologically advanced room in the entirety of Anchorhead. Though the design and initial idea had been his, most of the work had really been done by Yuka Laka in a joint effort with Honwoo. Of course, Midoriya had contributed _some_ with the building process, but this type of technology was far out of his depth. Hell, it had been for Yuka Laka and Honwoo, given that their field of expertise lied in droid repair- but in spite of all of that, the three had done it. 

Similar in function to the one built into the walls of the Jedi council meeting room, the technology of the holo-room allowed for full-sized hologram apparitions to appear of anyone using a holo-communicator. It was how the Jedi who were off-world were able to appear in the council room sat in their chairs, as if they were really there, instead of having to be viewed as a miniaturised hologram on a table or communicator. 

The door slid closed behind Midoriya, and after once more taking in a breath to calm his nerves, as well as clear his mind, he cleared his throat.

"Room! Contact the council!" As soon as the room had registered his command, several blue lights began to scan Midoriya through the seams of the walls; taking in his every detail and leaving behind an equally blue film that matched his movements- and, as soon as those lights reached the floor, and his whole body had been covered in the film, both the lights and the film were quick to disappear; the film, unlike the lights, breaking away into a rather pretty lighter-blue mist.

A few seconds of silence passed in which, stood; tense, and waiting, Midoriya couldn't help but feel rather silly. After all, the Jedi were strong; those on the council more-so that any of the others, but even they would not be able to sense him this far away; the Force did not work over holo-chat after all. All they would have to judge him by was his physical reactions, and if he were able to school himself like he normally did, they would not be able to tell that anything was amiss.

"Connection request received... Connection request accepted... Connection beginning in five-" Midoriya tensed every muscle in his body instinctively, and out of nothing more than habit, he stood to attention as he waited out the rest of the countdown.

"-Four... Three... Two... One..." All around him, the sadly familiar chairs of the Jedi council began to fade into existence, and sat in them, was every member of said council. Which... did not bode well. Whether the council members were all there physically or not didn't matter; the fact that they were _all_ there meant that this was about something serious- and, if he were being honest, Midoriya was not in the right frame of mind _at all_ to deal with something serious enough to bring together the whole council.

When the tenth and last of the chairs, as well as the Master sat in it, was finally fully formed, then, and only then, did any of them speak.

"Greetings, Padawan, we've been waiting for you." Master Musha addressed. Turning to his right to face the man, Midoriya gave a respectful bow to the older Master. He was by far the oldest member of the council, and as his years of combat would show, he was a Guardian through and through. Even now, as he was sat in the presumed comfort of the council chambers, he wore his armour below his robes.

"Hello, Masters. I was told you had tired to contact me earlier; I would have answered, but I was asleep. The other night's patrol ended up running quite late," Midoriya lied. Nodding his head in understanding, apparently having bought the lie, Master Musha looked over to Masters Sakamata and Kamihara in an apparent gesture for them to begin whatever conversation they were about to have.

Master Sakamata was a Herglic, biologically, and was one of the few Jedi on the council to wield a purple lightsaber. He was a brilliant commander, and on the battlefield, he was an overwhelming force of nature. Master Kamihara on the other hand, was a Consular; a Jedi who focused on their proficiency with the Force over anything else. In Midoriya's opinion, Kamihara would have done well as a Sentinel; the rank he himself had been training to achieve; the rank his _own_ Master was; and _his_ Master before _him_ , and _her_ Master before _her_ \- however, though being in tune with several different paths, Kamihara had chosen the path of the Consular, which Midoriya supposed he had to respect, even if his adherence to the Jedi Code meant Kamihara would never be able to live up to the ideal of a true Consular.

"Well, we hope you enjoyed your sleep Padawan, because quite soon you're going to go on quite the long journey. Darth Bakugou's flagship, the 'Usurper', has been spotted coming out of hyperspace in a neighbouring system, and is on course to arrive on Tatooine in less than twelve local hours-" Sakamata began, his voice deep and echoing and his eyes, beady and red, boring into what felt like Midoriya's very soul.

"Yes, it has," Kamihara interrupted, "And he isn't alone. It would seem that he has brought with him his entire fleet. One ship for every Fallen Jedi he had dragged into the dark with him. After what happened the last time he was on Tatooine, we can only assume he has come back- this time with reinforcements, to finish the job." A dark shiver ran up Midoriya's spine, and with the Master's words came back the images that had been plaguing his nightmares for the past month. His eye twitched, and his hands instinctively tightened into fists. Few council members noticed this, though Midoriya didn't notice them notice.

"I see, Masters, so you want me to confront them before they arrive; meet them before they can even enter the system and take them out? Done." Masters Usagiyama and Todoroki shared a look, both equally concerned, which, considering their reputations, had Midoriya feeling like he was about to be told something he _really_ didn't want to hear.

Master Todoroki was the second of the three council members to wield a purple lightsaber, and was arguably the second most powerful Jedi of the era. With the combined skills of both Master Sakamata and Master Musha, as well as his incredible strength in the Force, he had only ever been bested on the battlefield once; during his messy stint as a Dark Jedi, Midoriya's own Master; Master Yagi, had been the one to take him down. This event had been what had earned Master Yagi the title of Grandmaster, but that was irrelevant.

Master Usagiyama was the final Jedi on the council to wield a purple blade, though her choice to do so was more for her aggressive way of fighting than her connection to the Force. Biologically, she was a female Lepi, though she lacked the fur that the rest of her species held; instead having human skin. She had never elaborated on why, but many chose not to ask; whenever it was brought up she seemed to get... _jumpy_.

"No, Padawan, in fact your orders are quite the opposite. You are to prepare your ship and return here _immediately_. On top of this, you are to completely avoid the system that Darth Bakugou's fleet is travelling through; making use of your ship's cloak drive, so that their scanners won't be able to pick you up. Additionally, you are not to go into Hyperspace for the length of your journey." Master Todoroki stated, folding his arms over his chest in a manner that, if done to anyone else, would have meant the end of the conversation. Midoriya's eye twitched once more as he spun to face him; his jaw clenched so tight it hurt.

Suddenly it had become a hell of a lot harder to keep his emotions in check. Darth Bakugou was coming back, and they wanted him to just _avoid_ him? They wanted him to just run with his tail tucked between his legs and _hide_?

"For what it's worth, Padawan, we appreciate 'ya finally wanting to follow orders without trying to fight us at every turn- but Master Todoroki has it right. Whilst you're on your way back, we'll dispatch a strike team of Jedi to confront him on Tatooine, and hopefully, capture him and the other Fallen Jedi," Midoriya's glare turned dangerous as he stared down the flickering form of Master Usagiyama, and even if she couldn't feel his rage through the Force, she could definitely see it in his eyes.

"Masters... Those have to be the stupidest orders you have ever given. Not just to me, but to anyone- so please, if you would indulge me, I'd like to know _why_ you want me to run away; why you want me to leave the people of this planet _defenceless_. We both know that, if Darth Bakugou is really coming after me, when he arrives here and finds me gone he will turn his rage on the planet- and we also both know that it will take far more than twelve local hours for that strike team to arrive _even if_ they were to travel via hyperspace. I nearly had him last time; you know I did. I won't let him get away this time." Midoriya had to strain himself to get his words out, and as he did, the council all visibly deflated, however where Midoriya was expecting surprise at his outburst- or even disappointment, instead the faces of the council members reflected acceptance towards the situation; as if they had known he was going to object.

It was clear to Midoriya that there was something more at play here; that there was something that the Masters weren't telling him; a pattern he had been noticing for quite some time now, and a pattern that was starting to get on his nerves.

Master Hakamata was the one to step up and give Midoriya an answer; his voice, as always, calm and even. It irritated Midoriya to no end that he never seemed phased by anything; he was by far the most apathetic person he had ever known, and was easily Midoriya's least favourite council member. Master Hakamata was a Jedi Consular, though his stubbornness in 'perfecting' and only using the Force to push and pull somebody made him, in Midoriya's eyes, unfit to bare the title.

"Padawan Midoriya, this is a direct order from the council; you are _not_ to engage Darth Bakugou, and you are to return to the temple as soon as possible for the time being. You are only a Padawan; you aren't skilled enough to take on someone like Darth Bakugou yet-"

"-Bantha-shab." Midoriya stated; his glare redirected towards Master Hakamata with a snappy turn of his head. To his credit, he took the insult in the same apathetic stride he took everything in, and fell silent; looking to Midoriya as if gesturing for him to continue speaking.

"You know just as well as anyone here that that only reason I'm still a Padawan is because the council refuses to promote me out of ignorance. I'm just as good as any other Jedi Master, and you all know it!" Midoriya cried, spinning to stare down as many of the Masters as he could. "Do I have to mention again that I have already nearly stopped Darth Bakugou once before? The only reason for my failure was because I chose to not go after him, and instead let him go so that I could try and keep Ochako _alive_!" Midoriya was starting to come undone again, and he could feel it; his breathing was becoming ragged and where before his eyes held fury they now held desperation.

"And in doing so, my boy, you broke the Jedi Code _again_. And for what? Master Uraraka died anyway, and Darth Bakugou escaped. You achieved _nothing_. It is your flagrant disregard for the Jedi Code that has stopped you from ascending to the rank of Master, not _our_ 'ignorance'." Midoriya felt as if he had just been thrown face-first into a vat of ice-cold water as the words of his Master broke the council's silence, and it was all he could do in response to pause. Midoriya in fact fell so still that for a moment, the council had thought that they had lost connection.

"You shut your Force-forsaken mouth you kriffing hypocrite..." This time, the council, unfortunately barring Master Hakamata, did in fact recoil in shock- and if it wasn't for the cool rage that burned at Midoriya's core in that moment, he might have even cracked a grin at finally getting one over on them. Though, given that he'd never spoken to his Master in that way before, he supposed he had the upper hand on that one.

"Now, Padawan, that is no way to speak-"

"-No, Master Tatsuma, I have a feeling that this has been a long time coming. Perhaps by allowing him to vent here and now, we can work towards helping reshape the boy in the future," Master Todoroki interrupted, barely hiding his amused smile at seeing the Padawan yell at Master Yagi. Master Tatsuma, seeing the spark in Master Todoroki's eyes, merely rolled her own, before relaxing back into her council chair with a grim hum.

Midoriya's icy gaze prickled Master Todoroki's skin, though the fury he felt was not directed at him. Whilst it was clearly just a way for the Master Todoroki to find some entertainment in this mess of a meeting, Midoriya was none-the-less thankful for the backing. Turning his attention to his own Master, Midoriya frowned as their eyes met. His Master was looking far more gaunt than the last time they had spoken, which meant his illness had only been progressing.

"How dare you... How _dare_ you! _I_ only ever break the Jedi Code when _following it_ would result in needless _lives_ being _lost_ \- and just because in the end Ochako _did_ die, that doesn't mean that I shouldn't have gone to try and save her life in the _first place_! Bakugou was _injured_ ; his weapon _destroyed_! He only got away because Darth Riot had boarded his ship and dragged him back to _his_!" Midoriya spat.

"You, Master, have been _blinded_ by this council! _You_ were the person who taught me I should prioritise saving lives over finishing the mission in the first place! _You_ were the one that showed me how flawed the Jedi Code really is! You were the one that showed me how flawed _both_ codes are! _You_ were the one that set me on this mission to try and rise above the Force's will to _begin with_ \- Just as _your Master_ did you, And _her_ Master _her_!" At the very least, Master Yagi had the self-respect to look ashamed. Though, apparently, if the looks that the other council members were giving them was anything to base his assumptions off of, Midoriya was currently revealing information that they had not been privy to. Even Master Todoroki had taken on a serious look, which, technically speaking, wasn't anything new, but given how a moment ago he had been watching on as if he were the cat that had caught the canary, it was notable.

"...And now look at you. You have have turned your back on, and _single-handedly_ nearly destroyed _eight generations_ of teachings, just because you wanted to sit in a comfy chair! And you have the audacity to claim that _I_ am the one in the wrong, for wanting to carry and _pass-on_ those teachings?"

"Midoriya," Master Tatsuma began. At the mention of his name, Midoriya was quick to fix his gaze on her, though what impact his wild and angry and _hurt_ eyes might have had on her was overruled by the obvious confusion he held at being addressed by name alone.

"As today is clearly a day for revelations," She gave Master Yagi a poignant glare. "I must ask... We knew that you and Master Uraraka were close; you shared a Force Bond after all, but... there was always an aspect to your partnership that seemed... _off_. And, after what you've just said, a lot of what felt off has begun to make much more sense. Padawan... _Midoriya_ , you spoke of passing-on those teachings... Was she..?" Though she hadn't gotten the whole truth, as she trailed off, Midoriya couldn't help it as his mouth fell ever-so-slightly open, and his hands, unclenched from their fists, began to shake not out of anger but out of nervousness.

Around him, the other council members seemed to catch on to what Master Tatsuma was implying, and for as badly as he wanted to, Midoriya knew it was too late to deny what she had said. She hadn't hit the nail on the head per say, however she'd caught it enough to at least sink it into the wood.

Kriff it. If he was going to be kicked out of the order, they might as well kick him out for the right reasons. His mouth drawn into a scowl, Midoriya rolled his shoulders back and stood up straight; making sure to look Master Tatsuma in the eyes as he prepared to speak the truth of his and Ochako's relationship.


End file.
